


breathing memories

by ificouldwrite



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, And My Heart Can't Take A Tragedy Now, Angst, Because I Love Bittersweet/Happy Endings!!!, Breaking Up & Making Up, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Heartbreak, M/M, Memories, Time Travel, i added more description after i made that tag and don't have the heart to delete it, kind of but not really, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ificouldwrite/pseuds/ificouldwrite
Summary: Arthur realizes that the pocket watch wasn't just Merlin's good luck charm. He realizes that it takes him back in time.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	breathing memories

Arthur hadn't meant to touch the damn pocket watch.

It had purely been an accident. He'd stubbed his toe on the armoire and caught himself on the counter so as not to crash to the floor failing spectacularly as he crashed to the ground. Admittedly, he'd been drinking. A lot. The bottle of whiskey was empty now, the wine also entirely consumed, and he'd been in search of something else to drink when he found his way going up to the bedroom somehow. Alcohol was flooding and drowning his blood, making his judgement cloudy and his thoughts muddled. His heart was aching, and even though it was his fault, he'd wanted to numb his sorrows. 

Obviously, it didn't work, because he found himself stumbling to the bedroom, tears in his eyes as his drunken mind replayed memories of loving someone and of being loved. 

In his clumsy state, he crashed into his and Mer-- _his_ bedroom, smashing his foot into the armoire, which led to the the moment he'd touched the pocket watch, _Merlin's_ pocket watch. 

One moment, he had a sweltering headache and was blindly roaming around his house, the next he found himself outside, on a playground where it was bright and sunny and warm, not at all like the cold bedroom he'd been in a second ago. He looked at his hands, at his feet, shaken and afraid and confused. He knew what being drunk out of his mind was like, and this wasn't it. 

The field looked like a dream, hazy and a little fuzzy, like he were in a movie that was being put through a filter. He looked around, not recognizing anything around him. It was fairly rural, great fields of flowers and of crops, a playground that was old and a bit rusted. As he became accustomed to the surroundings, he startled when he saw him.

A young man with dark hair, wearing a jacket that wasn't nearly as worn as it had been when Arthur saw him wearing it last. He was looking at the play structure, watching a little boy slide down the slide. Arthur stormed towards him. 

"If you've cursed me--"

And this man, who looked so remarkably like Merlin but didn't have the same startling blue eyes, turned around and walked through him. _Through_ him, as though he was merely a ghost. 

He gasped, clutching at his chest, feeling suddenly very cold. He swallowed, turning around to see where the man had gone. 

_"My boy," the man said, smiling brightly. He picked up a little toddler, so ridiculously tiny and giddy as he reached up to him._

_"Father," the boy said, grinning widely. A young woman walked towards them then, beautiful and bright with eyes so blue they seemed to trap the oceans in them._

Arthur recognized her -- he'd visited Hunith's a number of times for family occasions, and knew precisely what she looked like, even if the Hunith before him was about 30 years younger. 

_"My dear," the man said, taking her hand. And he held the three of them, eyes so full of love for these two people._

As the panic subsided a bit, he made note that the man was a bit older than his Merlin, wrinkles around his hazel eyes, skin much tanner than Merlin's paleness. And then, he realized that the little boy in the man's arms _was_ Merlin, and his heart stuttered. 

_He must have only been four, or possibly younger. He was small and adorable, as all children were, with big ears and bright eyes full of wonder and love. He giggled when his mother tickled him._

_"He's got your gift, Balinor," Hunith said. "My two boys, my two magicians." She kissed Balinor, and then Merlin._

_Merlin's hand waved just slightly, and there was a scuffling from Balinor's pocket until a very familiar pocket watch flew out into Merlin's outstretched palms. The glint of the gold caught in the sun, shiny and new. He latched onto it giddily, looking proudly at his parents._

_"We'll keep him safe," Balinor said softly, looking at Hunith. She gave him a fond smile, but there was a bit of worry, too. Balinor nudged Merlin's head with his. "We'll keep you safe, my boy."_

Arthur watched this happy, idyllic family, and the scene began to fade. 

He gasped, blinking. The shock seemed to have sobered him, because he was now completely aware of everything that was going on. He glared at the pocket watch, accusatory, as though it was the time piece's fault. He had half a mind to angry call Merlin to ask him what the hell had just happened, but knew better than to contact him after what he'd done. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing about. At one point, he went to turn on the lamp so he was no longer walking about in darkness. 

"I must be dreaming," he muttered to himself. "I must be dreaming, or he must have cursed me." 

Arthur regretted the latter words, knowing Merlin wouldn't be capable of hurting or cursing anyone for the matter, even if it was with... with...

He shook the word out of his head, groaning as he collapsed onto his mattress that was now too big. 

\-----------------------

A week passed, and he couldn't get the memory out of his mind. It had been real, he came to that conclusion a few days later. But why on earth was it showing him Merlin's memories? What had Merlin done to it? 

Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. Would another memory play out for him, if he were to touch it again? He'd left it on the armoire, too afraid to even ghost his fingertips over the chain. But now, he was in the house, and it was winter and it was frigid and he had nothing better to do. So, without his better judgement and driven by impulsivity alone, he placed his hand atop the pocket watch. 

_"I don't know why they pushed me. I hadn't been doing anything wrong," Merlin said tearfully. He was a bit older now, maybe seven. He was sitting on a log as Hunith_ _took his hand from where she knelt, finishing with dabbing the alcohol swabs on bloody knees._

_"I know, love," she said gently. There was a fury in her eyes, though, at the thought that someone had hurt her little boy. "But people aren't always very nice. They're stubborn in the old ways. Magic is something they're mean about, sometimes."_

_"But that's not fair," Merlin pointed out. "We'd been friends before, why does it matter now? Why does it change?"_

_Hunith's eyes were sad as she looked at her son. "Do you remember what Father says?"_

_"The greatest gifts come hidden up our sleeves," Merlin recited, tears dying down now. He sniffled and Hunith wiped his cheeks with her hands._

_"Exactly."_

_"But I don't want to hide anymore. I want to make butterflies and flowers without them throwing rocks at me."_

_"Oh, my dear..." Hunith took his hands and kissed each of them reassuringly. "One day, things will be better. You'll be able to make all the flowers and butterflies you want. People will love you for everything you are. They'll love you almost as much as I love you."_

_At this, Merlin looked so hopeful. "Really?"_

_"Yes," she said soothingly. "I swear it."_

Arthur stared at the wall for a long time, after that memory. How pitiful it was, to see Merlin crying about making flowers and butterflies, of all things. Because that’s all they were, flowers and butterflies to make the world more beautiful.

The words echoed in his mind, at how both hopeful and hopeless Merlin seemed to be. _People will love you for everything you are._ _They'll love you almost as much as I love you,_ she'd said. And Arthur had loved him, hadn't he? He still did, morning, noon, and night he still loved Merlin. And no wonder Merlin had lied to him, if his reaction was anything to go by. The words were something he'd never be able to take back. Curling on the bed, hugging the pillow that belonged on Merlin's side of the mattress but didn't smell like him anymore, he let the guilt eat away at him. It didn't disappear at all. 

\-------------------------

The cavern of missing someone was great and vast, the depth of it so entirely foreign to him. It hurt to see Merlin in the memories, even if he was just a child in the ones he'd seen so far. He seemed to figure out the timeline, as each memory was of a time Merlin had touched that pocket watch, going from the first time to whatever would be the last. He'd gone through the childhood years, the very last one from Merlin's childhood being heartwrenching and sad.

_It was a different place than the first time. It was rainy and overcast, a stark contrast to the sunny field. Merlin, an older one now, was standing... before an army general wearing a suit that was just too big for him. Hunith stood with a hand on his shoulder, looking the very picture of sullen strength as she held a case with a medal of honour granted to soldiers who died at war. The general knelt to Merlin's level._

_"Your father asked if I would give this to you," the general said gently. In his white gloved palm, he presented the old pocket watch, a bit more rusted now, with a few dents along the side. "We'd been good friends, him and I." Merlin took the pocket watch with shaky hands, his eyes blotchy as though he'd been crying very much. He must have only been ten, or eleven, here._

_"Thank you, sir," he whispered, voice quiet and fragile. His lip quivered but he too tried to remain strong, trying so desperately not to cry. Hunith's grip tightened on his shoulder in support._

_The general gave him an affirmative nod, rising to his feet. He gave Merlin a salute, and the memory began to dissolve._

Arthur felt an overwhelming sadness as he was pulled out of the memory. He removed his hand from where it sat upon the pocket watch, knowing now that it once belonged to a dead man.

________________________

His curiosity was stronger than his fear of Merlin's power, of all this potential. He continued to watch these memories play out, tested out what he could and couldn't do. It turned out that he was really just a ghost, passing through people. He could touch things, yes, feel the shape of inanimate objects. But he could not move them no matter how hard he tried.

There were traces of Merlin throughout the house, only tiny little things Arthur wouldn't have blinked an eye at when they'd been together. Was it an accident? Did Merlin know how much it would hurt him to find it left among all the things he hadn't left behind? The crooked books on the shelf was one of them, as though someone had taken a few of them out in a hurry. Merlin had always done the reading, there was no way Arthur would have come near them.

Merlin's favourite mug was left in the cupboard as well. Arthur knew he'd loved it so much, and was shocked that he'd left it. Arthur hadn't really given him much time to pack, though, he recalled. It had been months since he'd left, and Arthur still didn't have the heart to touch it, let alone move it elsewhere. 

That night, he ached to see Merlin again, storming up the stairs and slamming his hand down on the watch. He blinked, and found himself standing outside the uni building, the very one he'd met Merlin at. It was strange, to see this place he hadn't visited for so long, a place that he knew, but through Merlin's eyes. Somehow, it seemed more beautiful. Merlin always did see the brighter side of life, no matter what sadness plagued his past. 

And it had been beautiful, hadn't it, on the day he met Merlin? The sun was out, the grass green and vivid and the trees sang with life. He saw himself coming across the courtyard, and the following interaction between them. He was a right prat, then, self-righteous and stubborn. Merlin had told him off the second he'd done something unfitting, and from then on it had been history. He wished he could go back in time, truly, to change things. To make himself a better person, so that he wouldn't waste so many weeks waiting to get to know Merlin. If he'd known how little time they'd have... 

He didn't touch the watch for a long time, after that. 

\---------------------

There was a picture of Merlin and him when they were younger, one of their first dates. He'd made the mistake of looking at it, seeing Merlin's smiling face was painful. Agonizing, really, because the contrast between that expression and the one he'd seen Merlin with last was... horrible. And it was all his fault. He couldn't even blame his father for instilling these beliefs in him, because Ygraine hadn't been that way. His father hadn't always been like that, either, but it was only after his mother passed. More and more, Arthur thought about how much of a hypocrite his father really was, and felt bitterness but mostly sorrow as he recalled how he'd let that belief turn in his own.

He sat down at the kitchen table, recalling the memories he'd lived through of Merlin's life. He hadn't touched that pocket watch too often, and Arthur realized why after seeing Balinor's funeral. It was a sacred thing, to Merlin, a memento he kept in his bedroom, or held when he needed good luck on something. The memory that stood out was the one of Balinor being so proud of that his son was born with magic, had eyes that flashed gold, and of Hunith with her soft smile as she looked at the both of them with so much love. How she promised that one day, Merlin would find someone who would love him almost as much as she did. Magic and all. 

Why didn't Arthur let it be him? Merlin had been born with it, he hadn't learn it by choice. Even if he did, why did Arthur have the right to be angry? Yes, he would liked to have known, but it couldn't have been wrong, not the way Arthur thought it to be. Not the way he'd been brought up to know it as. And Merlin had only been doing things around the house, he remembered, when he'd found out about the magic. He'd been sweeping the floor, ironing a table cloth, washing the dishes. They were all ordinary things, all so entirely normal. And Merlin had looked so relaxed, using it. So content, as though he'd been itching to use it for so long. 

Arthur suddenly felt sick at the thought. Since Merlin had been born with magic, it must have ached to hide it away. Like muscles going stiff with disuse, limbs growing thin because of the lack of attention. And of all the things he chose to use it for, he did it to save time doing chores as he made Arthur's favourite dinner by hand, flowers and wine sitting on the table. 

He sat on the floor beside the armoire where the pocket watch still sat, leaning against the drawers. "I'm so sorry, Merlin," he whispered, hugging the photo of them. "I'm so sorry." 

____________________

After that, Arthur was a bit cautious to touch the pocket watch. Now that he was entering more recent memories, he was afraid of what he would find lurking in the hands of time. Surely, it would make him even more remorseful over the person he had lost, but what if thee was something he wasn't seeing? What if, buried under all these memories he actually did find something... sinister? that would only justify his reaction, to an extent, because the words that came out of his mouth that night...

But the what ifs. The what if there was evil, would he want to know? Could that even be possible? He'd seen a lot of Merlin's life at this point, a lot of their interactions, too. The first meeting, the first dates. Some days, when Arthur wasn't home Merlin would be doing chores with his magic. That made his heart ache the most, because they were _just chores._ Sometimes, he used it to go out into the garden to make the flowers bloom just a little bit fuller. Thus, Merlin wouldn't be capable of doing any harmful acts, he was so empathetic and his heart bled so much for others Arthur often worried he would die of blood loss at some point.

He paced about, letting his mind run in circles, moving from the bed to the closet door to the bedroom door, then down to the kitchen, and back up to the armoire. He itched to drink, do something except for mope about in the empty house. He kept glancing up the stairs, trying to distract himself. He took a shower, then saw Merlin's bottles of shampoo that hadn't been thrown out, the one that smelled of mint and pomegranates that Merlin loved so much. Arthur stared at the bottle, then opened the lid to smell it, catching a whiff of it only for a pang of sadness to wash over him. He missed this smell so, so much, missed the curls he'd run his fingers through that had this very scent, how the pillow always had an underlying scent of it. He missed Merlin every day.

Eventually, he tore himself out of the shower, dragging his feet to the bedroom after he'd gotten dressed. He made the decision to travel again.

Once he'd settled and emotionally prepared himself, he took a shuddering breath and pressed his palm to the glass surface. He blinked, and found himself... in the very same place. In the bedroom, except it was a bit warmer, now, and not as lonely, somehow. 

There was laughing, and faint music, as a door opened and closed, the sound coming from downstairs. 

Footsteps came up the stairs, with it voices and soft giggles. Arthur stilled, watching as the bedroom door opened and he and Merlin walked into the space. 

_They were wearing jumpers, warm and cozy as they pressed teasing kisses to each other's lips. Both of them were noticeably dressed up, dress trousers and shoes to match, their jumpers looking smooth and un-wrinkled. Merlin was smiling fondly as he dragged Arthur to the bed. Instead of stripping them both naked, which they had done before, the two of them just flopped on the mattress, laughing and sleepy._

_"Long day," Merlin said, "but a good one." Merlin lay at Arthur's side, his arm draped over Arthur's stomach, holding onto him tightly._

_"I'm proud of you," Arthur said earnestly, wrapping his arm around Merlin's shoulder. "You did so well at the book signing." Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur's chin. Arthur looked at the dresser, where the pocket watch sat. "You didn't bring that with you."_

_"What?'_

_"Your watch. You didn't bring it."_

_"Oh," Merlin said, looking at the dresser. He was surprised, almost, that he'd forgotten, and stared at the armoire where the pocket watch lay._

Arthur stilled, feeling as though he was being watched from where he stood, but knew that they couldn't see him.

_Arthur stood to grab it, then settled back down in the bed beside Merlin. He handed the pocket watch to him. "I thought it was your good luck charm," he said curiously. Merlin took the pocket watch in hand, and they resettled back into their positions of pressing close together, nearly asleep from a long day of conversation and questions._

_Merlin gave him a shining smile, beautiful and loving. "I guess I don't need luck, if I've got you," he said._

Arthur's breath hitched. He'd forgotten Merlin had even said that, and knowing what he does now--

_"Well, you're stuck with me," Arthur said. "Until I get sick of you, of course," Arthur added, flippant as always. It was so like him, to say something that would be taken as an insult, and if Merlin hadn't loved him so much he surely would have left him long ago.  
_

_Merlin rolled his eyes, but it was good to see that he'd taken it for the jest that it was. More times than not, Merlin could give retorts as good as he received them. "Or until I get sick of you, and that stupidly handsome face." Arthur snorted, and Merlin smiled, shifting closer towards him. "I mean it, though. I think you're good luck. And I love you. Thank you for going with me."_

_"Always," Arthur breathed, suddenly serious. "I love you."_

_"Promise?" Merlin whispered, not looking up at him. He traced circles into Arthur's chest, distracted. His palm was pressing against the pocket watch that sat on Arthur's chest, fingers idle and nimble as they moved about on Arthur's skin._

_"Promise," Arthur said firmly, so sure of himself. IAs if he believed it. Because he had, at that moment at that time, hadn't he? If only he knew what the future would bring him, what he would bring to a halt in the future. Time was a cruel, cruel thing, but sometimes humans are crueler._

_Merlin hummed, this memory oblivious to what heartbreak was to come, and closed his eyes contentedly as he draped his arm over Arthur's stomach, the pocket watch clutched in his hand._

\--------------------------

Merlin musn't've been lying. He really hadn't touched that watch since that night very often, did he? He seemed to believe that Arthur truly was good luck, and didn't feel the need to keep the time piece with him all the time because several days later, Arthur pressed his hand to the watch to live through another memory, he heard humming from downstairs.

He knew that voice, had it ingrained into memory, despite having been deprived of it for so long. He'd always loved the sound of Merlin's singing. 

Stepping away from the pocket watch, he made his way down the hall, descending the steps. He froze when he saw the scene before him. It was _this_ day. The day he'd made the biggest mistake of his life and broke up with Merlin, who was bustling about in the kitchen. 

_The ironing board was set up in the sitting room, the iron smoothing out wrinkles in a table cloth on its own. On the table, a massive wicker basket with a wine bottle and a bouquet of flowers nestling themselves inside. The flowers, bright red and beautiful, was a mix of roses, tulips, poppies, and some Arthur didn't even know by name, all seemed to be in full bloom. Plates polished themselves before stacking in a neat pile._

_Merlin was by the stove, sweeping between the plot and the things on the counter, prettily decorated desserts that were still sitting on the tray to cool. Arthur was always amazed by Merlin's ability to cook._

_He was humming, Arthur noted again, as he made his way towards him. It was a habit he fell into when he was nervous or so entirely happy. It seemed to be both, on this occasion, based on Merlin's smile. He had to remind himself that Merlin couldn't see him as he traveled about the kitchen._

_At one point, Merlin paused and sighed. He lowered the heat on the stove and made his way up the stairs, back to the bedroom. He switched on the light, patting the pocket watch once, looking nervous and excited._

Arthur followed him, leaving a few steps of space, but close enough to hear his voice.

_"I hope this memory will breathe forever," Merlin said, and his eyes flashed gold as he pressed his hands to the pocket watch. Gold dust settled upon it, within it, before the light faded and it was back to its ordinary appearance. "I hope that I'll be able to look at this fondly." He smiled softly, before making his way out of the bedroom with one last lingering look to the time piece._

Arthur moved out of the way to allow him space, afraid of what it would feel like if Merlin were to pass through him.

 _Merlin found his way to t_ _he bookshelf beside the TV. Arthur followed him out of curiosity, watching as Merlin pulled out a couple books and reached behind them. He seemed to find whatever he was looking for because he pulled out... a small, black, velvet box._

Arthur's heart plummeted into his stomach. "Oh, God," he breathed.

_Merlin opened the box to admire its contents. He looked over Merlin's shoulder to see a gold ring, simple but so painstakingly engraved. The words **"My clotpole. Yours forever, Merlin"** etched into the inside in beautiful lettering. Merlin closed the box with a snap, kissing it as he always did for things he wished good luck on. _

_They made their way back to the table, where Merlin was arranging the plates, rolling up the table cloth, and packing up the food with his magic. And that was when Arthur, the past Arthur, walked in._

_"You've lied to me all this time," he said, pale and shaking. Merlin stopped dead, his hand landing on the velvet box instinctively, protectively._

_"I... Arthur, please, let me explain," Merlin begged. "Let's talk about this." He was so insistent to make this work, there was just an ounce of hope in his eyes and tone that said that maybe, just maybe, Arthur would see reason and try to settle this dispute like adults._

_"No," Arthur spat, too angry and too hurt to truly see Merlin's point of view. "Why should I listen to you?" He looked so impossibly angry, like a bull or a bear or a tiger, ready to destroy and maul whatever threatened it. As if he saw Merlin as a threat._

Arthur's stomach twisted as he surged forward, wanting to defend Merlin from himself. "Wait--"

_"Please, I've never meant any malice," Merlin said, stepping back. He was afraid, so, so afraid. It looked as though he was anticipating a beating, limbs stiff and cautious like an animal who's been hurt before. And he had been, hadn't he? So many people, so many bullies._

_"No, you don't get a say," Arthur said haltingly. "You've lied to me the entire three years we've been together."_

_"Arthur, I didn't know how to tell you the truth. Just give me a moment to explain--"_

"Listen to him, you idiot," Arthur downright begged himself, but _Arthur_ only went right through him. "Don't say it, don't say it."

_"Arthur, I love you, please. Just listen to me, we can work this out. Don't be brash, I--"_

_"Get out,"_ _Arthur growled._ _"I don't want to see you. Not now, not ever again. Leave."_

"DON'T," Arthur shouted, looking at Merlin desperately. The expression he saw was even more heartbreaking than he remembered, because now he wasn't blinded by range. He reached for Merlin's wrist, wanting to hold him, but his transparent fingers just passed right through. 

_"You don't mean that. You're angry, I understand, but for the sake of this relationship... somewhere underneath this you love me--"_

_"Love you?" Arthur said, laughing a cold, cutting thing. The sound was chilling to hear. Merlin was trembling, eyes shiny and afraid and so, so sad._

"NO," Arthur shrieked, wanting so desperately for things to change, wanting to change things himself. He'd wanted to change a number of things from the past, to ease Merlin's suffering and to stop bullies from tearing down the little semblance of self-worth Merlin had in his body. Never before, though, had he felt the desire to change things as strongly as he did now. "Don't say it you prat, just let him talk --"

_"How could I possibly love something like you?" Arthur hissed._

From where Arthur stood, he saw Merlin's hand curling over the velvet box that held the ring he was going to propose with, saw slender fingers linger on it as the words hung in the air, filling the room with broken promises and hate. "No, no no no..."

_Merlin blinked once, then twice, taking several steps back as though he'd been hit. His mouth was agape with sorrow, completely at a loss. Arthur felt the shadows of guilt creeping towards the burning rage in his chest. Merlin's eyes fell, and with his gaze dropping the tears came. He turned towards the door, silent and utterly, utterly heartbroken. Arthur watched, knowing the dread would come soon, that it was already coming, and with it the regret._

"Apologize right now, take it back. Take everything back--"

_Merlin's eyes didn't meet Arthur's. His shoulders were hunched as he slipped the ring into his pocket, the movement hidden behind the basket he'd so meticulously put together, all this time and thought and love poured into an evening where he'd meant to make a declaration that would change the rest of his life. But instead, this future that they had together crumbled and scattered like confetti in the wind._

_Good night, Arthur," he said softly, leaving the house without another word._

_The door opened and closed, gentle because Merlin really hadn't been one to act out of anger, had he? And Arthur watched as Merlin disappeared into the night, leaving him all alone._

In the present, Arthur returned to a cold, empty bedroom. Everything in him ached, his limbs were trembling as he stared at the pocket watch, as the hands stopped clicking. That must have been the last time Merlin had touched it, then, because there didn't seem to be any other memories to turn into. He felt panic, taking the watch in hand. He held it tightly in his palm. "No," he said. "NO, take me back. Take me back. Let me change things--"

His chest seized, and he shook the unmoving watch. "BRING ME BACK. _BRING ME BACK._ BRING ME BACK TO HIM." Arthur collapsed to his knees, sobbing, pressing the time piece against his chest. "Let me change things. Please." 

But the clock never started ticking again. 

___________________

A month or so later, on one of the brighter days of the summer, Arthur found himself wandering around the market in search of nothing in particular. He'd spent hours just roaming, alone, buying gifts for Gwen and Lance's child as her birthday was coming up and he was to attend the party soon, and something for Gwen and Lance as well. As the sun began to sink, and the day bled into night, Arthur began to make his way home, carrying all the things he'd bought that day. It was on the cooler side now, and he was walking past the clock shop when he saw the book store that Merlin worked at, right as the man himself walked out to close the shop. 

"Merlin," Arthur said softly, loud enough for Merlin to hear. Merlin turned to face him, staring at him. His eyes were sad, hair longer than Arthur had ever seen it, having grown to sit around the ears that Arthur loved so much. It looked good, rather handsome on him. He swallowed, then turned back to the store to lock the door. Arthur was afraid that he'd lock himself inside. "Wait, please," he said, nearly begging. Merlin's hand settled on the doorknob. Arthur could see that he was hesitating. 

"We're closed," Merlin said quietly. "Please come again tomorrow."

"Merlin, please." 

He let out a soft sigh. "What do you want, Arthur?" His voice was so quiet, as though he were afraid to make his presence known. Merlin had never been like that before. He was unapologetic, loud and charming and cheerful. Standing here, this man that had Merlin's face, was a stranger that Arthur had created. 

"I found your pocket watch," he said. it was a lie, yes. He hadn't meant to find it, only stumbled upon it while drunk off heartbreak. But at this, Merlin stilled. 

"Oh," he said. "I thought I'd lost it. After... after." _After you kicked me out, after I left your home, after everything had ended._ He shuffled his feet, particularly interested in a loose stone. "It was my father's." 

Arthur knew this, now. After all the memories, he'd have to have known it. Silence fell between them for a beat, until, "I'm not sure what you did to it, but... um, I. I lived through some of your past," Arthur said, stumbling over the explanation. "I didn't mean to, I swear it." Merlin was quiet again as he listened to Arthur speak. "I'm sorry for what I did. What I said." 

Merlin's eyes were shiny with tears as he shook his head, clearing his throat. His shoulders were tense. "I have to go. It's getting late, and I have to be here in the morning." Again, another lie. Merlin's day off was on Saturdays. 

"You were born with magic," Arthur stated, ignoring Merlin's attempt to leave the conversation. "I didn't know that was possible."

"Well. The world is full of impossibilities." Merlin sounded irritated. Irritated and afraid and hurt. "I really do have to go." He gave him a curt nod coupled with a grimace and began to make his way to his car, shoulders still tense and back rigid, as though he were preparing for an attack.

"Merlin, I love you," Arthur blurted out. "I love you." 

Merlin made a choked sound, eyes filling with tears, slowly turning around. He nearly would have scoffed at that, if he weren't so angry. If he weren't so sad. "No, please don't. Why would you say that?" he croaked, his voice dangerously quiet. He looked ready to explode, rage and sorrow beneath his skin. Then, his eyes widened in realization and he took a step back, looking horrified. "Is this payback for the magic? A rebuttal? Is this revenge, Arthur?" 

"No, no it's not any of that. It's the truth, it's only the truth. I love you, Merlin." 

Again, Merlin shook his head. "You said you could never love someone, some _thing_ like me. I should've known that from the start." Furiously, he wiped at his eyes. "What you said to me... it's not something you can say to someone you... love." Arthur's heart shattered, knowing now how much it must have hurt for the words to come from the lips of someone you wanted to dedicate the rest of your life loving. 

"Merlin, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for being cruel, and selfish, and for not letting you speak that night. I'd take it all back, I regret everything more than you could ever know, and I told you I loved you-- _love_ you, because I can only hope that you'd be willing to at least... try, again. Slowly, however slow you want to. But if you never want to see me again, I understand." 

Merlin stared at him with eyes that were so bright and shiny and blue. "I don't want you to hurt me again," he said at last. "I knew how you'd felt about the magic only after I fell in love with you, and that's why I was so afraid. I knew I'd lose you. And I did." 

"I'm so sorry, Merlin," Arthur apologized again. He took this for the finality that came with his tone. "Thank you for letting me speak to you." 

Arthur turned to walk away, but from behind him, he heard, "I was going to propose to you, that night. But I guess you know that, now." He whipped around, to see Merlin heave a great breath. "At least now I know what the answer would have been." 

"It would have been yes," Arthur said softly. "It's still yes. It will always be yes, and I will always love you." Arthur took a tentative step towards Merlin, because Merlin didn't look like he wanted to escape anymore. "I regret it, I regretted it in the moment but not as much as I do now. As I've learned to. I saw your family, what you've lost, what you've learned. I was wrong about magic, it's not evil, it's not vile. It is beauty, and life, and there is so much of it in you and I'm so sorry to have lost it." Arthur paused. "And I love you for everything that you are. I don't want you to change. I want you to always be you." 

The man before him took a deep, shuddering breath, looking at him with heavy eyes with a twinge of hope in the blue. "That's all I've ever wanted to hear," Merlin breathed. He laughed, a soft thing to himself. Tentatively, Arthur took Merlin's hand and pressed a kiss to the clenched knuckles. 

"Give me another chance," Arthur pleaded. "Please." 

Merlin looked up at him, wondering and beautiful. "Okay," he said at last. "This better work," he said, but there was still lingering hurt. Hurt that Arthur would try to help soothe, as soon as he got the chance to take Merlin home and watch after him, to make up all this lost time and sorrow. Soon, definitely soon, because Merlin's eyes were too beautiful and too sad now. 

"We'll make it work. I won't be a prat this time," Arthur swore vehemently. Merlin chuckled, but his eyes were still teary and his face was still a little blotchy from emotion. Arthur always hated seeing Merlin cry, wiping the tear tracks away with his thumb. 

"You'll always be a prat," Merlin said, teasing. "But at least maybe you'll be a prat that loves me." 

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin, clutching tighter to him than he ever had before. And he wouldn't be letting him go any time soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! 
> 
> I’m now on Tumblr under the username [@ifcouldwrite](http://ificouldwrite.tumblr.com/), so if anyone wants to send a fic request, please do! I’ll try to write it in a timely manner but school is :/


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